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[sourcherrybites]

Loops and looms

Character: Arranged! Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Submission by @mourakitana "Please, I want Bruce's reaction if he was forced to marry MC and in one of the missions he discovered that she was a superhero like him (please explain how he would find out and what his reaction would be) + please also add if she was jealous of Catwoman+tysm💕💕💕💕💕"

Disclaimers: No proofread, we die. Same universe as "Silly Billy scenario." I just wanted to post this so I could keep focusing on more submissions.

A/n: apologies for the delay and the... very sloppy ending. BTW reader is not white, don't let my Pinterest picks fool you, WE LOVE WOC IN THIS ACC

Word count: 2,003

Masterlist

Being married to Bruce Wayne was nice. Though you were bothered that people assumed that 1: you were a gold-digger, your own family had worked their asses off to reach where they were now and 2: you were just another brainless, spoiled little girl. You were a successful physicist in the middle of getting your PhD in quantum physics!! But anyways.

For the first months, it was a silent but comfortable time; you were just trying to get used to each other. Still, we know you weren't the best at hiding just how attracted you were to your sweet, buffed, kind husband, his soft, patient blue eyes, and the fact that he found his new form of entertainment, teasing you. He would wrap his arm around your waist during the night, his hand sprawled on your stomach as he nuzzled against the back of your neck, his stubble would definitely leave a rash behind by morning.

— "Did you even shave well today?"

— "I'm pretty sure I did..."

He'd mumble against your neck, pulling you closer.

A 'Mornin', honey,' and a kiss on the cheek. His warm hand on the small of your back and a smile on his lips as you talked about the string theory, how you talked about everything, every little molecule being connected, as if the universe was a big, colourful loom.

It made your heart flutter; it made you forget about the fact that you missed your hometown and the thrill of vigilantism, and it somehow soothed the ache for adrenaline, the itch you felt on your body when you left your powers unused for far too long — but it didn't quiet down that little, quiet voice in the back of your head.

Well, you knew. You were not offline — The hot, trendy romance between Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle? The most stylish, trend-setting couple in all of Gotham circles? You weren't stupid to think you wouldn't be compared to Selina Kyle, she was freaking selina Kyle for crying out loud— you looked up at her too!! And, of course, you knew that there would be some die-hard fans of the couple in the comments of your social media ever since the engagement was made public, even if everyone knew or suspected it was an arranged marriage. But the comment saying that the only reason Bruce agreed to marry you was because you looked like Selina...

You absolutely didn't! At all! Your hair, your eyes, your body, it was all different!! You were a bit less defined, with darker eyebags... not as skinny... your skin was covered in scars, either from fights or as a result of your teenage acne... less... pretty? No, of course not! You were just as good! Just not ... better. It was a pointless comparison— you were you and Selina was Selina. Did you even want to look like her? Absolutely yes no.

Bruce noticed that there was something wrong with you, and he tried to do his best to cheer you up. Spending more time listening to your ramblings about your PhD, trying to get home sooner so you could talk more, sending you small gifts like chocolates to the university; everything but actually talk about it. Because you didn't want to talk about it, Because talking about it made it real.

"Anything in your mind, honey?" He asked one time as you two watched a movie on your big matrimonial bed, his arm wrapped around your shoulder while his fingers played with your locks damp from a recent shower. He wanted to talk about it.

—"I'm fine, Bruce, just thinking about the project..."

You smile softly, leaning against him. Once again, you didn't.

One of those nights you decided to just explore the city, maybe the adrenaline of running on top of buildings would clear your thoughts; and it certainly did, in some part. The feeling of the cold Gotham breeze on your skin was calming, it gave you a sense of home and familiarity, even more than Bruce's warm embraces did — your feet moving quickly against the concrete rooftops, your fingers digging into the hard material like it was sand as you climbed, it was fantastic.

But you were s bit out of practice after a few months out of business, so you sat down on the rooftop of a particularly tall building, trying to catch your breath, that until you heard a faint sound nearby and your stomach turning — it was quiet, like a gasp, probably a couple getting frisky in the middle of the nights with a weird exhibitionist fantasy, or maybe it was something else, you didn't loose anything by investigating, right?

A particular part about your powers was that you could spot people from a mile away, remember how you said the universe was one big, colourful loom? People were like drawings, it didn't matter how much they changed clothes or appearance, they were made of the same material, the same bright thread that you always thought was their soul.

And you could recognise Bruce's with one look, even under his Kevlar suit.

Why were you even mad? All of his affection felt like a cruel performance, a façade for the sham that was your marriage— platonic, fictional. But how he touched and kissed Catwoman was everything but. It was real. His hands had a purpose; he never touched you like that, so desperate and with an unspoken hunger. His lips had a purpose, desire emanating from their heated encounter. There was clarity in his actions that stung, a painful reminder that what he shared with her was everything you craved but could never have.

You counted one Mississippi, then Two Mississippi, then Three, four, five more until you couldn't look for a second longer.

You got back to the Manor with a speed you didn't know you had, and the comforting cold breeze of the night became painful, burning your lungs with every breath you took. You couldn't even cry or listen to the sound of anything other than your heart beating painfully faster and louder than you'd ever felt — you didn't even hear Alfred's voice calling you out and asking if you were okay. And you didn't even hear when Bruce got into bed with you like he did every night.

You just knew you didn't want him to touch you anymore.

And Bruce was worried, to say the least — he was used to the quiet of the manor, even with his new wife, but this was different. It wasn't the warm, comfortable silence he was used to; there was too much of it. You didn't ramble about your research, you came home late, or pulled away from his touch. It was like you couldn't stand the thought of him touching you, and it felt so, so painful.

The usual kiss on the cheek he gave you every morning made you tense, not in a good way, more like it repulsed you, that was if he even got to greet you in the morning. "Mrs. Wayne has left early" Became his usual morning routine, and it didn't get any better — He would barely even see you, and when he did, you either were just too lost in thought or you'd find a way to sneak away.

To make matters worse, something was causing too many strange phenomena around the city; some abandoned warehouses had walls that looked torn — not damaged over time or missing some bricks, but as if they were a big piece of fabric that had been crudely cut with a blade, threads, literal threads floating around the affected area. And they had collapsed more than once.

He had looked it up; there had been similar events a few years back in your hometown, an urban legend of a figure that could dissolve anything into thin air and impart justice for years in the night, creating and pulling the imaginary strands of everything.

"Maybe you should ask your wife," Selina suggested as they both sat on the edge of a building. "Strings, string theory. Ain'tthat her major?" She asked, "That's if she even decides to talk to me." He groaned, causing Selina to chuckle, "What did you do this time?"

The thing is that he didn't know what he did or didn't do, and she notices it

— " You should talk to her."

— "You think I haven't tried to?"

He is frustrated. Everyone has told him to fix it, but what can he fix if he doesn't know what's broken? Even the soft rain pouring over Gotham seemed to be avoiding him as well, like it was too repulsed to touch him just like you were. Hold on-

The rain fell normally over the rest of the city, but not on the space he sat on; droplets fell like thin strands of clear water. He raised a hand, touching one of the strands, and it burst and dissolved in the air with a sparkling sound; it reminded him of small diamonds or what fairytales describe as stardust.

Bruce stood up slowly, looking upwards to the tall building in front of him, when a faint 'Go home' left his lips — His hook stuck in the top edge of the building and inertia jerked him upward — and there you were, his beautiful bride on the other edge of the rooftop, in all your ethereal glory. Your hair in the wind, dancing just as the raindrops did once they touched your skin, stretching and splitting into cosmic strands that sparkled as brightly as the diamond in your wedding ring.

You looked… so melancholic, your tender face tired with grief, arms outstretched at your sides and hands constantly writhing from the cold, but it didn't seem to be important to you. Why were you doing this? How long have you been able to do that?

He has a rule: No metas allowed. but you are his wife, and you are so magnetic - even when defying the unspoken rules of the universe - His name left your lips like a soft prayer, just as he finally walked up to you, and when you turned to look up, he knew you knew.

— "Why are you doing this?"

His voice is soft; that's Bruce talking, and he hopes you finally do as well.

— "I just... why? When?"

— "When were you planning on telling me you still see Selina?"

You mutter, barely above a whisper, and he reacts by closing his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. So that's why you've been distant.

— "Don't change the subject."

You want to laugh, but you're just way too worn out for it. He doesn’t even seem to have the words to justify himself. "Do you even realise how reckless your actions were? Someone could’ve been in those warehouses," he starts, his voice heavy with concern. You can feel the weight of his words pressing down on you, but you cut him off, your voice barely above a whisper: "Are you really going to leave me?"

Leave you? No, not a chance. He wouldn't leave you for anything in the world. He cares about you, and he knows how important this marriage is for you. Your hands ball into fists, the strands of rain water moving quicker and more violently. "Because I lied? Because you love another woman?" You choked out.

Bruce grabs your wrist, pulling you closer to bring you back to reality. "How long have you been doing this?" He inquires again. "Years? It hurts when I don't." You reply softly.

"Are you going to leave me?" You ask again. "No... that's not what this is about. It's about how much danger you could've put people in." He laces his fingers with yours. "Why did you do it?" He questions again. "Were you too upset?"

You nod softly, pulling away to wipe a tear from your cheek. "Can we go home now?" you mutter. Yes, you can. You can talk later. It'll be alright. He just needs you to calm down and stop tearing the universe apart.

"Yes... Yes, we can, honey."

You had a lot of time to talk.

©sourcherrybites 2025

[usedpidemo]

Acquainted (Red Velvet Yeri)

(Thank you for the commission! I hope it's to your liking.)

You’re just about ready to head off to sleep when you check the group chat. This is your nightly tradition. These strangers, now your closest friends despite the anonymity, are active and in good spirits, as usual. Outside of your weekday 9-to-5, these few moments are the most interesting parts of your day, and you just so happen to join during a particularly lively conversation:

> [22:48:01] yerimiese: (posts a link to a red velvet album article)

> [22:48:14] flutter mane: :sanapog:

> [22:48:23] silksong sulker: k-pop is saved

> [22:48:33] wonyoung cockjuicer: ew red velvet

> [22:48:37] wonyoung cockjuicer: wonyoung can peg me tbh

> [22:48:39] irene’s tokki: Bae J:floshedjiggle::floshedjiggle:hyun

> [22:49:06] milf hunter: :floshed:

> [22:49:11] milf hunter: gape sugalo

So of course, you chime in as well.

> [22:50:12] You: lets get it, new rv fancams

You’re in no mood to chat for longer than five minutes, but before you head offline, you receive a private message from your closest friend:

> yerimiese: so when are you in korea again?

> You: Next week, why?

> yerimiese: nice. why don’t we meet up, that would be dope as fuck

> You: You’re in Korea? 

> yerimiese: yeaaaah? why wouldn’t i be? 

> You: I thought you’d be doing other schedules abroad

> yerimiese: nah sm definitely won’t fly us out to film an mv. cheap ass bastards ㅋㅋㅋ

Yerimiese then sends you a video link. It’s a Yeri fancam, her weapon of choice. Your conversations began with small, intimate talks about your personal life, soon transpiring into open fapping, degrading, and casual lewdness with each other. Despite the usually depraved nature of your messages, you both continued sharing snippets of your day to day lives. That’s how close you’ve grown as friends.

> You: Well i’m very tired, today was a long day at work, had to work overtime. No time to lewd, sorry

> yerimiese: it's alright. you did well today

Yerimiese sends you a pic this time. It’s an event; the internet can’t load any quicker. You’re hungry, impatient, dying. Whether it’s intentional or not, the photos she sends whenever you’re tired or stressed out are hotter than her usual swimsuit or photoshoot reel. You’ve shared enough about your daily routine to her that a camera crew might as well be recording you.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary; a simple candid pic of herself lying in bed, her face perfectly cropped out of the background, showing nothing but her body on full display in front of the huge mirror, dressed in skimpy black panties and a white shirt  that accentuates her shapely breasts. As usual, she’s not wearing a bra; you can clearly see her hard nipples demanding all of your attention.

> yerimiese: no need to send a dick pic tonight if you don’t feel like doing it 

You can’t help it. Tired as you are, you feel obligated to send her one. Luckily, every pic she sends is more than enough to make you instantly hard. It feels more guilty not to be turned on, rather. 

It’s a mostly quick and painless affair, powerful enough to put you out of commission within minutes. Even though you’re mentally checked out, Yerimiese’s sexy body is too hot not to crank one out. Taking a pic of your erect cock as you pump yourself to her is second nature; sending it on sticky fingers after you’ve spurted all over your phone and blankets is a different story. There’s no other way to put it, she was the perfect reprieve from the day’s exhaustions—a perfect high note to go out on.

> yerimiese: fuck you’re THROBBING THROBBING tonight :ningasm: your dick looks so damn nice. i can taste your cum through the screen

> You: Happy now? 

> yerimiese: more than, and then some. I wish you were here right now so you could feel how wet I am

> You: Just wait. I can’t wait to fuck you hard. Goodnight

> yerimiese: goodnight

> yerimiese: :tukkwithkiss:

—————

The next time you’re able to communicate with her, you’re one day away from being in Korea. In that period, you’ve been inactive in the group chat because work. What welcomes you back is a barrage of lewd photos and Yeri fancams.

> yerimiese: see you tomorrow :chuupeek:

It’s an open secret that you know she’s Kim Yerim. Yes, that Kim Yerim of Red Velvet fame. It was a giveaway right from the first explicit photo she sent you; those tits in a tight, petite package couldn’t have belonged to anyone other than hers. That, and the fact that her username is the same as her Instagram handle, and that she has a photo of herself in the group as a display pic. How she would end up stumbling into your private K-pop server objectifying her body and her profession is one of life’s biggest mysteries, yet here she is, giving you a very personal look into her shapely figure, better than any fancam and photoshoot could ever provide. To others, she’s merely a casual acquaintance, but to you, she can freely open up herself.

Mainly because you’re one of three people in the group chat that still cares about Red Velvet.

Her latest sent photo is relatively tame; a tight fitting white silk sundress, and the skirt is virtually nonexistent, her panties practically out in the open. Luckily for you, she seems to be sitting down, but not in her usual living room. The notion that this is what welcomes you to Korea, that you’ll be balls deep inside an idol’s pussy right when you land—it ruins you. 

Almost. 

An airport guard manages to break your deep train of thought. “Sir! No phones please,” he sternly commands, saving you from total disaster; you’re inches away from walking straight through a metal detector with your phone in hand, the belt around your pants, and some spare coins lying deep in your pocket after you bought some traditionally expensive bottled water. Luckily, no one manages to see the photo—and even if they did, she’s still smart enough to cut out her face, leaving nothing else to your imagination. 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about immigration and airport security, it’s that there’s little need for repetition. You go through security four times. At the entrance, after the check-in counter, then within your departure gate, and even before boarding your flight—repetitive. It’s frustrating enough to tell Yerim, to which she responds with more lewd photos of herself. 

> yerimiese: yeah ive been there before ㅋㅋㅋ

> yerimiese: how long’s ur flight?

> You: About 13 hours

> yerimiese: cali?

> You: Yes

> yerimiese: kinda random, but seulgi misses los angeles

> You: How come? 

> yerimiese: something about an ex-boyfriend that i didn’t know about until the other day ㅋㅋㅋ i bet she’ll be jealous when she hears about you coming over just to clap my cheeks ㅋㅋㅋ she’d wish it was her bf instead of you

> You: does she know about this?

> yerimiese: of course not LOL i bet you’d rather fuck her instead of me, so she’ll never know. smh.

> You: That’s not true ur my RV bias since day one!

> yerimiese: stop lying LMAO i don’t blame you tho seulgi has some really toned legs and a nice slappable ass XD anyway, i’m gonna send you something to pass the time while ur onboard

> You: If it’s a masturbating clip i swear to god

> yerimiese: fuck you got me LOL

> You: Goddamit if anyone finds out on a plane of all places…

> yerimiese: i still can’t get over your clip of you jerking to me. i can taste your dick. you’re depriving me by leaving me out to dry for a week ㅋㅋㅋ

> You: You’ve been touching yourself to that clip for a week??

> yerimiese: can’t help myself, album prep has been tiring and i haven’t really found any opportunity to relax in the meantime

> You: I’ll be there soon, just wait a bit longer

> yerimiese: can’t trust me with that, i’m very close to making a huge mess of my hotel room ㅋㅋㅋ

> You: You’re in a hotel?

> yerimiese: just to meet you! I won’t be able to meet you at the airport (duh, idol dating shit), so this is the next best thing. just message me when you’ve landed here, okay?

> You: Sure

—————

It’s ingrained deep within Yerim’s mind. A core memory. If her phone could present count how many times she’s played the clip, it would be over a thousand. 

It’s very straightforward. A 45 second clip of someone masturbating between the sheets, pressing their erect cock against their phone with a brightened image of a scantily clad woman on the screen. But it’s not just any woman, it’s her. She’s pleasuring herself to the idea of a man jerking off to her. She’s following his rhythm, timing the pace her fingers rub her clit to the tempo of the man’s cock pumping to her zoomed-in breasts. 

And she’s mere minutes removed from a conversation with that exact same person.

Slumped against the hotel room walls, her bliss spirals out of control rapidly. Her legs are instinctively spread wide, juices already leaking through her panties and spilling to the floor; that’s how used they are to Yerim’s impulses to pleasure herself. In those brief moments, she imagines how the next few days play out, skipping past the formalities and pleasantries and going straight to the fucking. She moans and shouts as if that very man’s cock is penetrating her pussy hard at this very moment. Her other hand bashes the wall, tongue screaming streams of profanities, as if he’s manhandling her, using her to his personal delight.

“Fuck! Suck those fucking tits!” she screams, slipping one strap of her sundress down to pinch her own tit, enhancing the illusion. Her phone rings; in her mind it's functionally a vibrator. He’s come fully prepared, and she’s riding high knowing that this person is doing exactly what he said in their private messages from the very start.

Yerim drags her fingers along her clit violently, desperate to reach climax, the realization that this is her third orgasm of the day way beyond her. The evidence can be found everywhere: on the soiled bed sheets and in the smell of the shower; she envisions herself getting railed in those parts of the room, and then some—essentially turning the entire hotel room into the backdrop for all of the things he’d do to her: fingers around her throat, sunk into her ass, until it’s red and hurting, the way she’d quiver and cream all over his throbbing cock. Her neediness has no limits; it even breaks past her very own personal quarters, the loudness of her own self-induced pleasure drawing concern from occupants nearby.

Only after the blissful haze of orgasm does everything fall back in place. That repetitive knock on the door is a huge wake up call. Yerim’s eyes widen. 

“Shit.”

She checks her fingers—they’re coated in copious amounts of slick—and after a little further inspection, she realizes the aftermath.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

—————

Being honest about yourself, you couldn’t have asked to feel hornier at a worse time than this. Thirty thousand feet high up in the air, stuck in economy class because you don’t get paid enough to deal with the bullshit back in the office. Using your one of two allowed leaves in the year for a trip to see a girl you’ve mostly known online, and it isn’t even paid. To make things worse, there’s no layovers—just a point-to-point flight from San Francisco to Seoul. 13 hours.

And boy, is the ride absolutely miserable.

By what you might as well call divine intervention, you’re conveniently seated between a nun and a little girl—the two worst kinds of people to be alongside with. No, not because they’re annoying or anything like that; aside from the girl getting up every thirty minutes from her window seat to get something from her parents across the aisle, you’re practically barred access to your glorified archive of lewd Yerim pics. Opening them up with a kid barely in the first grade beside you is openly asking for trouble.

And the few times you get up for a lavatory break, you can’t get yourself going. There’s always someone at the door every five minutes. 

Eight hours deep into the flight, you look over your shoulder, catch one of the male flight attendants sneak inside one of the vacant lavatories with a fellow stewardess while everyone’s fast asleep. Fucking sickening. That should be you with Yerim right now.

When you arrive on the other side of the planet, you’ve gotten only a couple hours’ worth of sleep. You almost fumble your passport at immigration, getting them mixed up with a slew of business and membership cards. Then there’s your forgetfulness working against you, remembering you need some kind of pocket Wi-Fi, and now you have to spend a little more to get back online. It’s a mess, and it wasn’t that long since you were in Europe for a seminar, where these things were merely second nature to you.

At least you remembered that VPNs exist. You message Yerim on the taxi ride out of the airport, unsure of where to begin.

> You: Just got out of immigration

> yerimiese: fuckin finally! 

> yerimiese: you got a place to stay here?

> You: Not yet

> yerimiese: don’t bother, lemme send you my hotel address, you can stay here

Of course you don’t know Korean, despite the constant back and forth with Yerim for months. Learning’s been on the backend of your itinerary, and has never been your top priority, even now. You show the cab driver the address, who merely looks at you and the phone with a particularly vacant and dumbfounded expression, as if you’re stupid for not planning this out—which, in that regard, he’d be correct.

When you finally arrive at the hotel, only one message stands between you and finally meeting Yerimiese, once and for all.

> yerimiese: I’ll be at the poolside, third floor. can’t wait to meet you :P

And that’s exactly where you end up going. Forget that you’re lugging two whole bags and a traveler’s backpack on your shoulders; you drop them off at the front desk, expecting the staff to have a clue of what’s going on and what’s about to happen.

Stepping out into the poolside, it’s a completely barren sight. It’s three in the afternoon on a Tuesday; most people probably aren’t even booked, let alone in this supposed five-star hotel. You don’t really question whether she’s being serious or not, the evidence was in the previously sent photos; you’re dying to meet her at this point. 

And as if perfectly timed for dramatic effect, a woman emerges from beneath the waters, shaking off the wetness from her damp hair.

Yerim casually swims over the deep waters’ edge, without a care in the world, let alone your presence quietly shadowing over the large pool. Even halfway submerged, you can make out the outline of her shapely bust and hourglass figure, tightly hugged by a pink swimsuit. She was sultry and intoxicating to gawk at from candid photos, but seeing Yerimiese herself in the flesh, that’s when the realization hits you: this is happening.

And you can’t move a muscle, let alone react from the actualization that you’re right in front of her. Even as the waves of water splash on your new loafers, you simply observe. It’s creepy, it’s morally dubious, but it’s one in a million. You’re taking in every moment, every second; soak it all in, you’ll never get an experience like this ever again. 

You should be friends by now, if your definition of friendship means sharing explicit body photos and exchanging devious intentions about how you’ll fuck each other online or how much cum you’ve given to each other. But when she turns in your direction—catching you casually observing her, your hands tucked away in your coat’s pocket, grinning like a little kid— it’s back to square one.

Like the very first time.

Yerim takes all the time in the world to wade over from the other side of the pool, her smile growing closer as she approaches you. She lifts her eyebrows, expecting you to make a first move, to which you barely open your mouth, and ultimately only a deep breath, a stilted sigh, comes out.

Well, this is awkward.

Yerim giggles. You’ve previously heard her loud moans and cries, but a genuine laugh—this was your first. She never hops on calls in your group chat, most likely because idol shit, as she often refers to her line of work. Her laughter, her energetic expression—it’s as perfect of a translation to real life as it is online, and embodies the idol Yeri you know on screen. 

“How long have you been standing there?” she asks, trying—and failing—to suppress more of her laughter.

Your answer is concise, but doesn’t seem quite right. “A while.”

In reality, about five minutes. You probably won’t be there any longer when she props herself out of the water with her strong elbows. Water cascades down her shapely figure, thicker and meatier than it's ever been, more than what the cameras and pictures present. She’s truly the entire package, through and through. 

She walks over to her sunlounger, granting you a nice peek of her ass peeking through her skimpy swimsuit before she wraps herself with a towel. Apart from that, your only other notable observation is that she’s soaking wet, even bundled up. That, and also: she’s barefoot. No sign of slippers or any footwear—she willingly walked on what appears to be scorching cobbled floors.

“I would give you a big hug right now, but you know—” she comments, looking down at her drenched self, pool water endlessly dripping down to her feet. Even if she isn’t soaking wet, you’d still be frozen in place, or even worse, some eagle-eyed stranger or Dispatch reporter catch you in secret and you both end up on national news the very next day.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you say, trying to dodge Yerim’s eyes. “I left my stuff at the front desk. I should probably go and grab them.”

“Smart.” Yerim sizes you up, nodding in amazement at how you’ve managed to get yourself past the entrance. “See you upstairs, then? Room 1015.”

—————

The difference between you and Yerim couldn’t be any more obvious.

Granted, you’re fresh off a 13 hour flight, followed by an hour's travel from the airport to a five-star hotel in the heart of Seoul. Yerim had all the time in the world to prepare, and yet when she emerges from the bathroom in nothing but a modest bathrobe and her dark hair bundled up, she’s never looked better. 

Facing an idol in such a haggard condition, it gives you an underlying feeling of shame. And if you’re being completely honest, if not for your cock, she’d probably be repulsed and call security on you.

But there's no security in sight. Just you, just yeri, the two of you standing in this room - which is, for the most part, quite nice. Multiple bedrooms, a lovely view of the city beneath you, and all sorts of amenities and features you’ll never get to use—you half expect her members to come in later, but perhaps for your sake, you’re better off with just her and her alone.

When Yerim begins to talk, she rambles. She goes on about the status of the next album, discussions about a possible solo debut, her relationships with her members—conversations about topics that you never really had online. It was mostly dirty talk and lewd captions. At best, you knew each other at a surface level, but here she is, sharing everything from her heart like you’ve been lifelong friends since day one.

You let her. She’s as charismatic as what she portrays on screen, and her sass is no different than the private messages she sends you. There’s not a single dull moment whenever Yerim speaks. Though you know her mostly for her body, her personality is what has you sticking around.

You wonder if she feels the same way about you.

“So, how’d you find out about us?” Yerim asks, after blabbering for a while, and you genuinely believe she’d keep going till nightfall. Close enough. Five minutes away from five in the afternoon, and you’d already spent the last hour and a half listening to a personalized podcast from her. You hope she doesn’t notice the plate of bulgogi on the table now completely empty.

“Well, a friend was a K-pop fan and had an extra ticket when you toured here,” you say, casually, slumped on the sofa. “Forgot how long that was—” you pause, “five years ago?”

“Five years? Five years since we went to America?” Yerim appears flabbergasted, face in utter disbelief at the passage of time. The realization causes her to stand from her chair. You’d be too after listening to her drone on endlessly. “Fuck.”

“SM! Give us a fucking world tour already!” she screams, pretending she’s inside the company building and you’re an executive in the room. Watching her snarkiness come to life never ceases to amuse you. You’ll let her go on for as long as she needs to; she’s entertaining in such a unique and charming way that it disarms you.

“Argh, sorry, you know me.” She suddenly stops, faces you, arms crossed, mocking up a pout. “Look at me suddenly losing my shit for no good reason.”

“Are your members used to this?”

That didn’t come out right.

She bats an eyelid. On her face is a mild, blank look of displeasure. That didn’t come out right. 

“Used to what?”

“Well, uh, I—I mean—”

You gulp your throat.

“Stop.”

Then, an air of awkward silence. Her eyes quickly scan you, lazing on the sofa.

“Let’s just get to fucking each other right now.”

—————

It isn’t that you’ve forgotten the one purpose you’re there to begin with, it’s that Yerim is very, very impulsive. One moment, upset at her company for doing the bare minimum for her group and her career, the next she’s using you as an outlet to release her frustrations. It’s a good thing your first impression of her was that she was very busty, because otherwise, the other description you had of her was—simply put—bratty.

You’re on your back, plopped against one of the beds, completely caught off-guard by her show of strength. Eyes rolled to the back of your head, you find Yerim already at the bed’s edge, loosening the belt around her waist, quickly disrobing herself within seconds. It’s nothing new; you’ve seen glimpses of her nude figure in pictures, imagined many scenarios where you’ve got your hands on her, but this—to see her completely bare in the flesh—is new. 

This is different. 

“Just so you know,” you mutter, frantically panting, your heart jumping, as Yerim undresses in front of you, “I haven’t actually had sex before.”

Just like that, the mood instantly changes. She stops. Abruptly.

“What?” 

Her mouth drops—again. Might as well stay agape. 

You consider retracting your statement. It was a joke, you’d say, something to get her even more aroused, fired up. The sex would be wilder, hotter than anything your fantasies would conjure. Then again, you wouldn’t be in this exact situation if you weren’t so chronically online, simping over pop idols like a kid about to enter puberty.

“I guess that’s to be expected,” she comments, snarkily, grabbing the edges of your pants, daring to rip them off you. “That’s fucking life, baby!” 

If you were in her shoes, obsessively waiting for someone with equally unhinged horniness, expressing precisely how you’d get fucked every single time you’d send a remotely lewd photo, you’d feel just as disappointed. You can tell by her partially scornful expression: she’s been fantasizing this moment as much as you have, too. You can’t blame her, but you kind of expected her to anticipate this; after all, you connected in a private group chat that’s been sexualizing her, of all places. 

Surely the signs of virginity were right there.

“At least this is real,” she says, leaning her head forward while cupping your growing bulge poking through your trousers. Your tip, at full mast, mere inches away from her chin, instead of a little phone screen. She’s pushing you around, growing slightly more mischievous and uncontrollable with the prospect of throwing someone like you around instead of the opposite. Something her members may have taught and ingrained in her. 

It isn’t quite the picture you expected from all the erotic snapshots and clips she’s been sending you. Every photo and video, designed to rouse the filthiest and wildest of your thoughts, was an act, a ruse to let your guard down, to give you this fixed headcanon that you can toss her around like she’s your personal plaything and object of pleasure. Instead, she’s using you for her own desires and wants.

It’s not that you don’t want her to use you and fuck you like this, it’s how completely in control she is that has you reeling, leaves you in a dizzy spell.

“I was gonna let you use my pussy and fuck me to ruin,” she says, playfully rolling her eyes, teasing and mocking. Her hand grips around the denim of your bulge, and it fucking stings. You’re sucking on loose air. “But since we have a virgin over here, I’m gonna do whatever I want.”

The implied connotation is what terrifies you, and no, it isn’t the revelation that Yerim isn’t a virgin—you assumed that much—but the notion that you were gonna have free reign over her cunt that has you contemplating some deep, long forgotten life decisions that set you back years. Their consequences are now starting to show.

She releases her ironclad grip on your pants, frees you of your obstructive clothing, both trousers and boxers down to the floor. Your hard cock springs free, terribly aching, already red and sore from her suffocating clench, and already leaking bursts of precum. The last day and a half hasn’t been kind to your cock.

To add insult to injury, she makes this licking motion with her tongue, aimed at your tip, but relents at the last minute. It leaves your throbbing cock aching harder, without any point of relief. The teasing sight almost renders you unconscious, and sends Yerim into a laughing frenzy. 

“Remember when I said I could taste your cock?” she says, chuckling. It’s not playful in the slightest—quite the opposite, in fact. It’s sinister. “I’ll wait a little longer to taste it. Don’t worry.”

Not the most reassuring of words, especially when you’ve got your hands tied—at least, not yet. Actually, you appreciate that she isn’t going to milk your cock dry just yet; when you finally look past the situation at hand, you come to treasure her chest. Her shapely chest, freely bouncing while she bounces her thick body on your lap—keep doing that, you say inside your mind, letting your wandering gaze soak in the unreal scene. 

She notices your intrigued eyes, rising and falling in rhythm with her tits. Subtlety was never your intention, and she probably knows from experience, as she says she does. Fixated attention is how she gets herself off, based on how she seems to respond to the lewd messages you’ve sent her in the past, and it shows when she repeats some choice remarks back to your face:

“I’d kill my boss to fuck those tits right now, you’re so goddamn sexy.”

She grips a hand around your throat, another down to the buttons of your shirt, pulling them apart. 

“Let me be your personal titty towel.”

Halfway there.

“I’d suck on your tits first, go down on your delicious pussy, then fuck that wet hole of yours three times straight.”

Just like that, you’re both even. Equal in nakedness.

You’re unsure whether it’s the sight of Yerim asserting her dominance over you, tits all up in your face with a devious smirk as she bares you down to your essentials that’s leaving you short on air, or if it’s the hand cautiously coiled around your neck. Either option seems sensible enough. This is how she lives in your head rent free, just being her sassy, sexy self. Even repeating some of the same particularly questionable lewd things you’ve written to her sounds hot with her brazen tone. 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she raises an eyebrow, leaning her head close, as if demanding an answer. 

Really, there’s no multiple choice here. Of course you nod.

She rolls her hips upward, inches her body across yours little by little, til her dripping pussy completely shadows your view. Her hand grabs the back of your head, meaty thighs pressing between your face. Now you’re truly suffocating. Even with the rather shameful admission, she rolls her crotch on your lips, expecting you to know what to do. No words, just the expectant grind of her crotch on your face, her wet folds opening up for you to take them.

Then, she begins moaning. 

Admittedly, the closest you’ve had to trying out oral is using your phone as an outlet for your tongue whenever she sends a boob photo. Thankfully, your inexperience doesn’t show when you first dip your tongue inside her folds, getting your first taste of pussy. Saltier than you expected, but fuck, you’d be lying if you think it wasn’t completely intoxicating—everything you hoped for, and more. 

It incites a few expressive reactions from Yerim—some loud, others quieter—with the end result usually a sharper, deeper grind of her waist on your face, splaying her cunt for you to devour. You’ve got one hand pressed on her ass, holding her plump flesh down while the other is at her mercy, pulled by hers, forced to squeeze her breast. You won’t complain. Not when her cries of pleasure motivate you to push yourself harder.

You repeat this addictive cycle, stretch moments into minutes, minutes into hours. Even when you’ve drained her completely, you’ll still be craving for more of her; that’s how hungry she’s made you. Your tongue meets her clit, and it draws out this especially sharp whine that she’s never hit once. Not on a track. Not anywhere. She swears up a storm, juxtaposed between soft, gentle pleas of “yes, more, and you’re so good.” 

In return, you take more of her, soak yourself in the continuous downpour of her slick juices freely flowing all over your mouth and tongue. As her pleasure escalates, her fingers tighten their grasp on your head, grab your tousled hair. You add soft, intimate kisses between streaks of licking her folds, and they send the young idol writhing, shaking atop you. Her words have been reduced to nothing but short, needy bursts of “please.” Even in this uncontrollable state, she gyrates her hips around you, rhythm steady, but more determined than ever to let herself go.

By the way her pussy throbs, you’re certain she’s a few critical points away from climax. It doesn’t change your plans, not one bit. You continue to lap at her sensitive folds, bask in her intoxicating heat, purposefully teasing her clit. She won’t demand that you end her —not this quickly, not when you’ve magically learned the art of giving oral to a woman under short notice.

You slowly work her through it. Your tongue dives into her slick entrance, deeper than it's ever been so far. The overpowering sensations send ripples that reach even the foundations of the bed, unlike anything it’s ever felt. Even in the wild throes of bodily pleasure, Yerim has enough willpower to stay in character, delivering a demand in her usual playful, fast talking tone. “Please do it! I’m going to cum!”

You contemplate the thought, completely drunk in her divine taste yourself, but you oblige. 

Your tongue sticks to her bud, and it causes this instantaneous, elaborate chain reaction. Yerim cries a sharp cry, waves of orgasm washing down all over her body. She stops in her tracks, completely rigid, mouth wide open, and this torrential gush of slick and orgasm swamps you, drowning you so deep that it's nearly fatal. Her thighs involuntarily clench tighter, too, and you’re temporarily trapped in your own pocket dimension, impossible to clean with all the cum left behind, especially on the sheets.

The most surprising observation from her orgasm is how suddenly calm it becomes. Only the sound of your tongue licking her clean can be heard, and it’s nothing but a gentle rustle. She hangs her head up, face completely flushed, catching needed oxygen in her lungs, letting the aftermath of her climax pass over. 

While her breath normalizes, she lifts herself up, moves to the side of the bed. In her wake, she’s left behind a drenched lake of slick around your face, leaking down to the muddled sheets beneath you. 

“Well,” she says, panting and pausing for air. “There goes the other bed.”

It doesn’t take rocket science to figure out what she meant. Even when you’re still mindlessly occupied by the sticky residue around your lips. You let out this muffled exhale, designed to be a laugh, but it backfires in your face. Amused, she giggles on your behalf.

“Not bad.” Yerim smiles at you. Charming and cute, a contrast to what had just transpired. “I thought you said you never had sex?”

It takes you a moment before you answer back, “I haven’t. You just taste really good.”

“You still have some left on the edges of your face,” she comments, her eyes mesmerized by how much she’s cum all over you. “Let me help you clean that up.”

And she helps, but not in a conventional way. She lifts you from the bed by your torso, then submerges you again, this time at the mercy of her bosom. You’ve got your arms wrapped around her waist while you’re kissing and sucking on her Yerim’s  tits, not exactly tidying up, but creating a larger mess that no amount of tongue cleaning can resolve. 

In the meantime, she whispers in your ear some of your more—questionable—comments:

“They need to give her a solo debut with a very sexy concept and trust me, I’ll be the guy who breaks the world record for jerking off if they do that.”

“It must feel heavy to carry them all the time. Let me lend a hand to you.”

“The only thought I had inside my mind when I saw her is every member would milk her 3x a day so that they don’t have to go outside and buy milk to eat cereal to the point they would just drink it from the source.”

You stop. You give her this strange, confused look. Even you couldn’t believe you said that.

“Did I actually say that?”

“Yes!” she replies, quick and straightforward, unable to hide her enthusiasm, while brushing your hair. “Not gonna lie, that sent me to the floor. I was laughing so hard, Irene ran in to check up on me!”

To make things worse, she flashes this wide, toothy grin that makes you regret your life choices. 

“God. I don’t wanna drink anymore.”

“Hey, if there’s any consolation, you wouldn’t be sucking on my tits and eating me out now if you never made that comment,” she says, caressing your chin and giving you a peck on the lips. As if it’s still not one of the most out of pocket comments you’ve ever made about anyone, let alone a celebrity—and you weren’t fully yourself.

“Relax. Don’t think about it too much.” Yerim pushes you back down to the bed, crawls atop you, meeting your lips again for an intimate kiss. Your hard cock, which has been left unattended for quite a while, captures your attention—and especially hers. “Lean back for me, will you?”

You comply. Involuntarily, your legs straighten, but Yerim pushes them apart, places herself at center view, seemingly ready to take you in her mouth. It makes sense; a woman with a mouth that runs like hers probably only stops when there’s cock stuffed inside them. The theory proves to be plausible when she gives your sensitive tip a delicate, yet dangerous lick, her eyes glinting at you with renewed vigor and lust.

“I told you I’d have a taste of that cock,” she says, half smug, half seductive, gloating with her brows. Your tenseness slightly recedes—until you realize your cock’s moving past her lips, in the direction of the space between her cleavage. “I didn’t say I wanted to suck on it.”

And she was right—not once has she ever expressed her desire to choke, gag, deepthroat on it. 

You grit your teeth, watching your cock disappear between her shapely tits, with Yerim personally making sure you comfortably fit like a glove. You fold. It’s snug. Hot. Breathtaking.

“Fuck, Yeri,” you mutter, closing your eyes as her inviting warmth leaves you weak in the knees, trembling. You don’t realize you’ve used her stage name over her real name. “God—”

“Does this feel like everything you wanted?” she asks, tone sultry and triumphant. A little slide up sends you into a frenzy.

You nod—even though there’s no other available options. The erotic image in front of you is permanently seared into your head: Kim Yerim, popular idol and to an extend, your ‘friend with benefits,’ grinning like a maniac, slowly fucking your cock between her tits, coated with your saliva, sweat, and copious amounts of precum. To think your little crude messages on a random forum would have such long term and drastic consequences such as this.

Not that you’d want to make sense of it all, especially when she gets into a rhythm. Sliding her breasts up and down, she’s delicate, intentional, and masochistic; you’re on the receiving end of how she felt when you were slowly eating her out. She’s dangerous, teetering between the line where your cock can be safe between her bosom and where she can break you in half. You’re already falling apart—and fast.

“Holy shit, Yerim. Fuck.” 

Each word you deliver is long and drawn out, especially the profanities. Heavenly music to her ears. She’s out of reach where you can pull by her hair, so you settle for the sheets instead. Your gaze wanders, travels everywhere but in her direction, because you don’t need to see the tortuous scene happening between your legs. Looking at the descending sun, this is probably the last time you’ll see the sun set in your life.

Her eyes challenge you to look at anywhere from her. Panting frantically, you find yourself at the mercy of Yerim’s whims, your cock fading and swelling into view, sticky and wet, gushing cum all over her tits. The sight drives you further mad, has you making sounds that have never been recorded—ever. She takes you in, delights in your suffering, eager for you to say the magic words.

“Ready to cum? I know you want to cum.” 

Even under duress, you’re not ready to fold just yet. There’s a little stubbornness inside you fighting back, pulling all the stops to keep you from surrendering to Yerim’s demands. You close your eyes, grip on the sheets even tighter, control your breathing, but it’s too little too late. You can only do so much with two hands.

“Cum for me.”

You hold onto a particularly deep breath, desperate to cling to whatever dying vestiges of control there is left, but your fate has already been sealed from the moment you’ve allowed your cock to enter her chest.

“Yerim, I—”

The exhale you release is the most relieving and satisfying. With it, comes out a rope of thick, creamy cum splashed all over her neck and chest. The aching, violent sensation doesn’t stop; more seed spills between the warmth of her cleavage. In one fell swoop, you feel all of your energy sapped from you, leaving you completely weak and powerless. 

In the gap between your climax and post-orgasm haze, you wonder if she’ll take some of your cum in her mouth, with the way she looks at your cock as it throbs beneath her chin. No. She lets it drip down her perfect naked body with a sticky white sheen that glows under the natural light piercing through the hotel’s window. 

“Just like that, hm,” she comments, casually flicking the last of your withering orgasm and cum with her wrist. She lathers the slick on her fingers on her shoulder, then places some into her mouth for a taste. 

After you regain a semblance of normalcy—after Yerim’s finished entertaining herself with your cum, staring at her coated body and fingers with curious interest—she rests her elbows on your knees, in the process of relearning how to bend. You sink back against the headrest, watch as the fading sun glimmers on an idol like her, destined to shine for every occasion possible—on the stage and under the afterglow of sex. She smiles, bright and wide, taking you in, as you are.

There’s something brewing, especially in the tender few minutes that follow. Something special, something more than just a spark. 

“So—” Yerim runs a sticky finger on your knee, dangerously close to stirring up your cock again. “You wanna try anal with me next?”

You pause. Widening your eyes, staring back with a look of disbelief. Just when you’re about to open your mouth to reply, she adds:

“Kidding. You do know that you’re gonna have to delete those tweets and comments, right? If they find out you’re here, you’re fucked. And I mean, a thousand times worse than now.”

—————

(A/N: This was an absolute joy to write. The nature of the request meant I could go very meta with it. About time we get a proper Red Velvet full album, so perfect timing! If you're able to figure out some of the references and easter eggs, then you, my friend, are too engrossed in the Tumblr K-pop male reader smut lore. Thank you for reading!)

(P.S. If you want to have your own story/idol written, you can ask for a commission :D)

[yurislilygarden]

Hello~ Long time no see, ✨️Inspired Anon returns✨️

I said I had ideas for the 3Vees in the Self Aware Au, but kinda forgot that I never sent them. But~ I had an iron clad memory when it comes to these things so if you want them, here they are~

For starters, all the Vees are aware of the Reader, but I'll leave their reactions to finding out that they're in a show to you.

Starting with Valentino. Val both loves and hates Reader, he loves that this little butterfly spends time in his office and 'oversees' some of his filming but hates that he never gets any reaction that he wants and that frustrates him to no end. Val tries to show Reader his films, his scripts, he even tried getting his workers to put on a 'private show' for Reader but Reader only ever seemed interested in following Angel the majority of the time.

Like, Val gets it, Angels nice eye candy, but he has so much more to offer than just his star!

Why does Val want Readers approval so much? Because he's convinced that every time Readers little butterfly appears during him writing a new script or filming his latest movie, it becomes a massive success. If he can find a way to monopolise Readers attention, then maybe he could make them view even more of his work in progresses and they'd become successes too!

It's purely placebo on his part, and the other Vees tell him that and show him the statistics to prove that there is no real difference in profit between work Reader viewed and work they haven't, but he's too deep in this rabbit hole to get back out.

Yes, Val might think he can use Reader as an infinite success glitch.

He's also not opposed to banging their butterfly form and gets major butthurt when they 'turn down his advances'. He'll keep trying because 'they haven't said no'... bitch, of course they hate said no, THEY HAVEN'T SAID ANYTHING! He's trying to figure out the logistics of how it would work and the other Vee mysteriously always have important work to do when he tries to bounce ideas off of them

Velvette is indifferent to Reader. They don't respond to her both on and offline, so they're a bit of a non factor to her. She has tried getting more of their attention when they fluttered around the studio (mainly following Angel), by dropping hint at making clothing inspired by their butterfly form, but stormed off in a huff at the lack of response. So now she is #OverThem.

However, Vel isn't one to be ignored. She likes to keep tabs on Reader, even made it into a little game with the Voxigram tag #ButterflySpotted where people upload candid pics of Reader around town. If they are genuine pics of Reader, she pays the uploader... in exposure.

She also does still have that butterfly themed dress line tucked away, she tweaks the design ever now and then. It will be her most expensive dress line released once Reader finally acknowledges her, but she miiight give Reader something for free if they admit she's their favourite Vee, preferably in front of the other Vees.

Vox is obsessed with Reader, almost to the same extent as his obsession with Alastor but for different reasons. However, he's not as oblivious as the others when it comes to Reader.

Vox recognises that Reader is listening and not replying instead of blatantly ignoring him, which has led to Vox following Reader (off camera) and venting about everything and anything. This might lead to some form of unhealthy attachment to Reader, but at least he isn't trying to get in Readers butterfly's pants like Val... unless...

Vox also openly admits to designing new drones based on them and has definitely told Reader about them, too. Reader didn't reply, but he knows they're listening.

Vox is also aware of the Reader hanging around the Hotel crew. He doesn't like that. He had considered that Reader was originally a spy for them but concluded that that was unlikely, he also considered recruiting Reader as a spy themselves but won't until he figures out a way around their communication issues.

Currently, he's 'content' with Reader having 'friends' inside the hotel because he knows that he's their favourite. But they better stay away from Alastor. They better not be letting him talk at them. He means it! THAT'S YOUR THINGS WITH HIM NOT YOUR THING WITH AL!

omg I thought I answered this back then when I got it I'M SO SORRY ANON😭

Idk how to answer this honestly, it was worded so well ngl. Val would fr have that love-and-hate relationship with reader. He loves that he can sometimes say to the others about how the butterfly stays in his office/part of the building, but then comes the part that he gets little to no attention, which he obviously hates. And yes, no matter what he gets told, the things made with reader around are OBVIOUSLY better and make more money,, obviously bcs how else there's absolutely no difference😒As for the banging ideas... don't let anyone outside of The Vee's know, that's all I will say bcs Val may end up dead once again...

Velvette is the safest to be around ngl, she doesn't do anything crazy after getting no attention like Val, and the gram is so real, she would save all the real pics to her gallery for sure. I just know that while some guys got exposure, some ended up a little differently... she so would get jealous over pics taken from really up close, she doesn't want random idiots that close to reader. And the collection !! Yes!! The price would be so high that even someone with The Vee's paycheck would call it really expensive, after all, she can't let some complete random wear something like that !! If reader told her how something would look better, even a mere suggestion, she WOULD think abt it for long before most likely actually changing it.

"This might lead to some form of unhealthy attachment to Reader." Don't even get me started on that, if they were to meet, he would assume that reader was actually able to hear every single thing he has said, which reader would not as they hear only what's in the actual show, unless we're going into an Au of sorts.I feel like he wouldn't try to get into reader's pants, but he may listen to Val without being forced to do it from time to time... It's not that he dislikes the fact that the lil butterfly hangs out a lot at the hotel, he HATES it, he wants reader at The Vee's building more !!

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

I'm here to ramble a few things I have in my mind on TFP Starscream (my beautiful, beloved, deranged and dangerous wife)

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

A stilleto heeled freak (Smokescreen's words, not mine) - Imagine Starscream has always been depicted as a bad omen, and it became a worse one when the war began. I like the idea that Starscream was also a scientist back in Cybertrone before the war - a cunning, dangerous one. That whenever you saw him you either felt respect, admiration, warning or fear towards him. Like he was a book easy to read, but hard to know what he was thinking, planning or what he was gonna do.

Such a pretty handsome, beautiful frame - one that also warned you that if you tried to touch, you would lose your servos or throat.

Also - like, imagine if TFP Starscream had also the ability to use his voicebox as a dangerous weapon. His name says it - screaming is one of his traits, he is loud, vocal nearly all the time (his silence is a bad omen, too.) Now, add this to what if he could increase to deadly levels the frequency and range of his voice - it is like hearing a banshee cry, a wail of despair and certain death. (You could even see the waves it produces in the air!!)

His scream would make your audials hurt and other senses start to glitch, like the sight (imagine that the pain it produces to hear such awful wail makes your optics glitch). Said scream can be heard from far, far away - it echoes, making your frame tremble and be on high alert as the second in command is fast, ready to pierce the metal with either his denta or sharp claws.

It is the now too close and clear wail of wrath that announces the beginning of a deadly dance between the victims and the second in command. It is like the Pit itself had a voice. And it was Starscream's.

If Starscream could have a banshee cry, imagine he can also make his voice just as beautiful as a siren call! We know his voice is raspy and 'not-so-pleasant to hear' (everybody else's words, certainly not mine!!) - as Starscream whines and complains nearly 24/7. But imagine a Starscream that sings, a precious sight that makes you forget he is danger itself and is about to offline you when he wishes to.

A poor Autobot rookie who had never met or saw Starscream clearly didn't knew he was about to meet their demise at the servos of the same seeker. In the rookies optics, they just found the most precious, ethereal like seeker of them all - sitting elegantly on a fallen piece of building, resting oh so calmly, singing a cappella that makes your spark flutter, as if calling for you to get closer and get embraced.

Poor rookie, hyponitized as they admired the beauty of the seeker, slowly getting closer and closer, servo lifting to try and at least touch the pede of the second in command, as if a believer tried to reach for its god. Starscream would keep such a serene expression with a small smile on his faceplate, still singing, his bright red optics never leaving the rookie's.

Poor rookie, who suddenly felt something sharp pierce through their chestplate - and before they could cry in pain, they hear Starscream's banshee cry and maniac laugh, to then be offlined.

Imagine that while listening to "Sirens" from the movie Black Panther: Wakanda Forever. (And, of course, "Banshee Strikes" by Nantoka-P ft. Hatsune Miku)

The screaming thing could be something common among seekers, it is Starscream's the strongest, deadliest one and it became even worse with the fall of his trinemates.

Picture how creepy it would be to see Starscream, launching himself at any bot, with that banshee cry, ready to kill!!

Down bad imagining Strascream covered in energon with that smile of his. Oh, so pretty.

That's it, my babybrain is eepy. (￣﹃￣) Vhaos Out!

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Confession Time: Part Two of Jordan Li X Streamer!fem!reader

A/N: I just got a cold so that's part of the story. Also, I own none of the characters from The Boys or Gen V. Enjoy!

Warnings: None, I don't think.

Word Count: 1410

Taglist: @airabek @thesuperwolfdiaries

A couple of weeks had passed since you realized your feelings for Jordan and now you had no idea how to act. You tried to act as normal as possible but no one told you what to do after realizing you have feelings for your friend of over a decade.

“Just tell them!” Emma insisted one afternoon in her dorm room.

"How do I work that into a normal conversation?" I replied.

“It’ll have to be a special conversation. All you have to do is say ‘Hey Jordan, I like you and I would really like to have sex with you’.” “Emma!”

Emma’s words did not help and as you set up for your stream later that night, you hoped Jordan didn’t notice your hands were trembling. “Nervous, Y/N?”

Of course they noticed.

You shook your head. “No, I think I just had too much caffeine.”

They nodded and leaned back in their chair. “So, what game do I have to carry you through tonight?” “You don’t carry me.” “Not in comfy games but I have to in horror games.”

You rolled your eyes and muttered, “PT”, wondering why your heart was fluttering in your chest.

As soon as the stream started, so did the thirsty comments and donations. “Yourmomssloppydisk said, ‘Jordan, what amount of money would get you to step on me? It could be any amount of time, I know you’re busy.’ Chat, relax,” You joked, face warming up.

“It’s okay, Y/N. For one thing, there would need to be an ironclad contract absolving me of any responsibility. The other thing is I don’t know if you could afford me.”

The sound of super chats and donations provided a nice distraction from the dark hallway in-game. “Someone sent a super chat and said, ‘I’ve never seen two pretty best friends, but this stream proves they exist’.” Jordan wrapped their arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. “Thank you for noticing.” “I will say, chat, I made this channel for my external validation. Jordan gets enough offline and online.” “Most of the comments come from you,” Jordan teased.

“Shut up!” you exclaimed, running through the loop again. Before you knew it, chaos in-game ensued and you couldn’t stop squealing.

Fortunately, the horror of the game kicked in just in time to distract you from how closely Jordan sat next to you or how good their new shampoo smelled. Or how widely they smiled when you got jump scared.

You were grateful for the nights they weren’t available to stream and you could focus on important things, like studying and planning new content. But the idea of confessing was always a thought in the back of your head.

Despite the fan content you’d seen, you couldn’t help but feel terrified of rejection. Putting yourself out there online and offline were two very different things. Online, you could just log off but offline, was a much different beast.

The decision to confess was taken away from you…sort of.

You and your friends were planning on attending Dusty’s Halloween party, AKA the biggest and best party of the year. Cate had been helping you plan your costume for weeks and you’d be able to take a night off work.

Everything was going to be perfect but, your immune system had other ideas. The morning of the party, you woke up with a sore throat and runny nose. As soon as Cate and Marie saw you, they practically shoved you back in bed.

“I’m fine, guys, I swear, I’m fine,” you insisted as Cate tucked you in. “Downing a bunch of Dayquil doesn’t mean ‘fine’, Y/N,” Marie said as she set a glass of water on your nightstand. “Now you’re going to stay in bed and rest,” Cate said.

“You can’t make me,” you huffed in your haze. “Yes, I could, Y/N, but I’m not going to.”

After they left, you did take a nap but there was only so much resting one could do before they got bored. So, you decided to do an impromptu stream. Nothing serious, just some Animal Crossing. You set yourself up with as many blankets and pillows as could fit with your setup and started.

“Hi everyone, this isn’t a planned stream but, as you can probably hear, my immune system lost a battle and I wanted to play some Animal Crossing to make me feel better.” You smiled when a super chat came in. “Thanks for the super chat Seriouslydon’tcallme87. ‘Y/N, you can take a night off. You’ve been working hard forever, and you need to take care of yourself.’ I appreciate the concern but I have plenty of zinc and Dayquil in my system.”

At Dusty’s, while Cate, Emma, Andre, and Luke partied, Jordan couldn’t stop worrying. Marie had told them about how you were sick when they met up at the party and then she had to stop them from driving back to campus. “Y/N would want you to have a good time and she’d probably feel really bad if you got sick.”

While Marie had a point, Jordan couldn’t stop thinking about you, all curled up in bed and suffering. In the middle of an intense game of flip cup, Jordan got a notification that you were streaming. They immediately stepped away from the table, clicked on it, and saw that you were practically lying down while working on your island.

“This is such a stupid mechanic. Just let me build a waterfall Nintendo,” you whined. Jordan laughed at that. You were always whiney when you were sick, but it was kind of cute. You were always cute.

Then, they felt bad because you were looking forward to this party for so long and kept your costume a secret from them, wanting a huge reveal. It was kind of embarrassing for them to admit that they were curious for which style route you took. Almost as embarrassing as the crush they had on you for the entirety of your friendship.  

“No, chat, this will not turn into a sleep stream. I didn’t even take the Nyquil yet.” As soon as you yawned, Jordan was on their way back to campus. When they burst into your room, you barely moved, head lolled to one side as you attempted to fish.

“What do you mean, ‘Jordan is serving?’ Chat, you all need to touch grass,” you muttered. Jordan laughed lowly and slowly approached you. “I appreciate the compliment.”

You slowly looked up and smiled. “Hi, Jordan. You make a great Jack Skellington.” “Thanks, but, I think it’s time we end the game.” You sat up and looked at chat. “Yes, chat, I was supposed to go socialize tonight but my immune system failed me. My costume was pretty amazing too, I was gonna be Black Cat.”

Jordan smiled at the visual. “Okay, chat, thanks for watching her for me but, I’ll take it from here.” Your protests were weak as Jordan stopped the stream, shut down all your devices, and gently lifted you in their arms.

“I wasn’t done!” you exclaimed. “I saved your progress, you can finish tomorrow.” They gently set you back in your bed and wrapped you in all the blankets they could find. They found the Nyquil and placed it on your nightstand along with some juice.

You wiggled around in bed and pouted. “But I’m not tired.” “Is this what it’s like to have a kid?” “Are you calling me a child?” Then, you started giggling and Jordan shook their head.

“Just take your medicine.”

"Why’d you leave the party?” you asked. “Because I saw my best friend trying to stream while she’s sick and thought I’d prevent a disaster.”

You grinned. “Thank you for always taking care of me, Jordan. You’re so sweet.” “Stop it, go to bed,” they said. “Wait.” You leaned up, grabbed the back of their neck, and pulled them closer to you.

Either the Nyquil kicked in or you genuinely didn’t notice the shock in their eyes. “I love you, Jordan. I was going to tell you at the party tonight but, this is also fine.” They opened their mouth to speak but you flopped back in bed, fast asleep.

For a moment, Jordan stood there, stunned as they watched you sleep. They couldn’t believe you said that and didn’t even give them a chance to respond.

Once they finished cleaning up after you, they decided to confess to you when you were lucid.

[6feathered6siren6]

I kinda wanna see V or Ronins perspective for the last prompt you posted (the fake death one), anon was kinda cooking on that prompt

No pressure of course!!

Shadows and Secrets

Authors note: I didn't expect the tension for these two to happen, but it is welcomed. Anyway, links do not work, do not try them. They will leave you to a blank page, I wrote this in V's pov btw, had a fun writing this.

Trigger warnings

Blood/death

the five stages of grief

-

It was weird. He sent a message and he didn’t receive one back. For some reason, you weren’t texting him back or online. Did something happen? V stared at his screen, did you get caught? He recently learned about his fascination with you, but he never got to tell you. He wanted to come clean. Sure, you were someone that has hurt people, and try to tell him that you haven’t. He liked you. The server felt.. Weird without you. Someone who only recently joined, you made it enjoyable. 

He heard the server ring out as someone messages, a moment of silence, then mass spamming. Raising his eyebrow, he scrolled down to see announcements marked as unread, then generally going off. He checked announcements. 

Angelic: Since Ronin is MIA right now, I’ll send this as this was someone we know… 

Angelic: https://a_totally_real_article.oof/journalist-found-dead-more-below

Inside the article, it said your name, your picture was there, it was a selfie with someone else, it seems you were hanging out at some event, it also entails that your room was broken into, and that your body went missing. They also mentioned that there were gunshots the neighbors heard. That they presume that you are dead. Dead.

He then checked the general chat, feeling his heart becoming heavy, he saw a few, but like Angel said, Ronin was not there. But he could see the messages fly by his eyes as everyone else was freaking out. 

It was hard to believe that you were gone.

He needed to see your place, there was no way you just… you couldn’t be gone.

Stage one of grief was denial. 

—

He passed through the crime tapes, and looked around your room. Your body was never found, that it was missing. He walked to your bedroom, empty, disheveled, stained with blood, but he knew it well from a camera point of view, and he knew this is not how your room looks. He trailed to your chair. His hand twists the chair around, making it spin. He looked at your computer before leaving your bedroom, walking into your living room. He looked at the window, the glass was broken, shards everywhere. 

But it was strange. Expected from a window, if you hit it the glass would follow the motion of the object. So someone didn’t break the glass and entered, the glass shards were outside into your baloney. Meaning someone inside broke it.

It makes him question what happened here. A few bullet shells were on the floor. He knew what gun they belonged to. Maybe he could track the people who they belong to. 

He picked up a shell, disrupting the crime scene more. He held the cold shell in his hand when he left. He needs to see this place's security footage.

There were cameras here, yet they were offline when the crime happened. He felt his eye twitch as something builts in him. 

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, he pulled it out to see another article. 

https:/ /a_totally_real_article.omg/journalist-has-been-marked-as-dead-read-more

So they found you, right?

Wrong.

They didn’t even look for your body. You couldn’t be gone. Someone who reached into his heart, making it flutter. Someone who made him realize his morals, made him into romance way more. Someone who made him laugh for stupid one-liners you pull on him. Someone who was not looked for and marked dead.

Stage two of grief was anger. 

—

He never thought he would bargain with the devil. Yet, here he is. In front of purgatory, he could smell the rotting meat from where he stood. It stunk so much worse than before. Ronin has been busy. 

He stepped in to see Ronin, crowbar smashed into what seemed to be a cop's body with the uniform he wears. V could see the mask strap around his head, peaking through the plum hair of his. 

“Ronin.” V started. “I need your help for something important.”

He twisted his head a bit towards him, silent, no reach to take off his mask. It was unnatural for the Devil’s Butcher to be this silent. He turned to fully face him, his crowbar swinging with a trail of blood fluttering in the air before he rested it on his shoulder. 

When he spoked, V could tell something was wrong, it was raw, deep, anger. “What can the Devil do for you, Watchdog?”

V should be hearing his smirk dripping in his words, but all he can hear is the bitter smile of trying to keep himself together. He should have expected it, Ronin was also deep in your affections, the way you two chatted in front of him. “I believe you know why, Ronin.” 

He sees the smaller male tapping his crowbar with his finger, he seems soured in V sights. But he couldn’t change the fact of what happened this week. “I do, I do. The devil knows. I think the server knows as well. You haven’t really been quiet. Angel not only asking the Devil’s Butcher to catch his stalker, it's everyone. Making you get back to that computer so tell them that they are dead.”

It was silent, he could hear the lightbulbs nearby buzz. Then tension was close to being thick enough for a chainsaw to cut it. 

“Ronin.” V crossed his arms, his overcoat slipping slightly. “I know you don’t think they are dead.” He leans towards the side, seeing the cops body. It was one of the cops that just put your case as cold. 

Ronin rolled his dark eyes, turning away. “At least, the devil is more quiet when doing their revenge. Even Misaki could hear it from Japan.”

V stepped forward before Ronin could start walking away, holding the other’s leather coat. It was slightly slippery but he got a good grip. “Just help me. We can bring them back.”

Ronin’s mask turns to him again. “Is the watchdog begging for a bone?” That tone of voice, his smirk is back, the Ronin that just pisses him at times is back. 

“Yes.”

Ronin slipped his mask off, the taller could see the dark circles that darken the others eyes, the smirk plastered on Ronin’s face. “Then let's begin, V.”

Stage three of grief was bargaining. 

—

V was at his bunker, Ronin sent him home to rest, as he will as well. It took a whole argument for it to happen. They had to make a deal, ‘another deal with the devil’. It’s been a few weeks since your marked ‘death’. He was laying in bed, he couldn’t sleep. Worried about you. 

What happened that night? Did you get shot? How did you defend yourself?

So many questions went through his mind. He couldn’t focus anything, laying there upon his ceiling, his thoughts were only on Ronin and you. Hopefully, he and Ronin could find you. As he started to think of Ronin, V started to get texts from him, telling him to eat or drink. He only mentioned something small, and now he gets reminder texts from him. 

It was helpful. 

(A/n: I literally didn’t know how to write more for this stage)

Stage four of grief was depression. 

—

Ronin found you. He found where you were. Who you changed to be. 

He swore to let out a breath of relief. 

Ronin and V met up in Purgatory, no new bleeding corpse or screaming. Just to talk, their game plan, but also about something else. 

Ronin leaned against the spray painted, brick wall, crossing his arms. The dark circles have lightened, fortunately. It was silent in this alleyway once again. V stood away from Ronin, but not close enough to the entrance way of the alleyway. 

“We got to speak Ronin.” V was the one that broke the silence.

“Daw, speak dog.” Ronin smirked at the vigilante. 

V rolled his eyes before continuing. “I know you like Reader as well.” 

There wasn’t much of a reaction, but V could tell Ronin was caught. Before Ronin took a step forward, leaning down while staring him down at his eyes. “And I know you love them.” His smirk was wide, grinning ear to ear. 

“I know you do, but I still would like to pursue them. And I was going to ask if we are going to figure this out before we get them back here.” He gestured between them. “I don’t think we can invite them back if we have this weird tension.”

Ronin stands up straight, continuing to look at V in the eyes. His grin unwavering, shrugging as his leather jacket makes noise as he does. “Let's leave this to the darling when they come back, watchdog. On more devilish news, you leaving to talk to them tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

Stage five of grief was acceptance.

[techtainia-makes-things]

I love your Mtmte Megatron x reader stories, and I re-read them a bunch of times because they are so good! And I yearn for more soft Megs. You write him so well.

If you're up for a little request- how about their first kiss? Like, how does it happen? Who started it? Do they talk about their feelings after that or pretend it never happened?

You have no idea how much I love writing some soft Megatron. Something about poets and pining just does it for me (so much so that MTMTE Megatron x reader fic was what finally convinced me to read MTMTE). Feel free to ask for a sequel, because I already have ideas.

I personally don’t think that Megatron would initiate anything unless he thought it was his last chance, like with my DOTL fic. That being said…

—

Another long day, and another even longer meeting. You checked your watch and sighed: it had only been an hour, and Ultra Magnus clearly wasn’t planing on stopping any time soon. You don’t even notice when you had pressed your face into the palm of your hand, squishing your cheek in the way that some of the less respectful mechs would coo over you for. 

You exhale, amused at the thought as a brief memory moves your thoughts away from the meeting. You remembered the look on Megatron’s face the first time he had seen it happen, the exact way his optics narrowed, and a more prominent frown that usual set across his face. The way he shot the bots a sharp comment: “Shouldn’t you all be working instead of tempting an intergalactic incident?” 

You just couldn’t help but smile into your hand, your pointer finger resting over your lip. He picked you up after that, and let you sit on his shoulder for the rest of the day. You had watched the way that his optics hilighted the bridge of his nose and the edges of his helmet, the slight quirk of his lip whenever you shifted to lean into him just a little bit more.

“It’s warm,” you lie to yourself, “He just has nice warm neck cabling.” You suppress a chuckle and shoot him a look.

He was looking back at you with the same softness that he used when he thought you wouldn’t notice. You always did. It was a nice feeling, it was nice to be appreciated. There definitely wasn’t any feelings attached. Definitely. Absolutely no chance that you enjoy how he guards your honor. No way. 

You glance at him again. He’s still looking at you with a look as soft as scarlet rose petals. He writes something down, probably notes. You never know though, he could be composing a new poem about his light in the dark, his little rose…

Fu-

“And that concludes todays meeting.”

You jump in your seat. Your eyes snap to Ultra Magnus. You straighten your back and take a moment to clear your throat. “Yes, of course Sir.” You glance around his face, taking a moment before you manage to meet his eyes. 

He raises a brow ridge at you, but says nothing. Maybe he would have if he had the time, but Megatron had already offered you his hand to step on. You smiled at him in thanks. The red reflected on his cheeks brightened. Your face was warm.

Megatron left the room with steps that echoed through the hall. He held you close to his chest, against his Autobot insignia. If you really wanted to, you could reach up and cup his cheeks in your hands, taking in the way that the cold metal would absorb your body heat.

His optics widened. His stride stalled. It was just the two of you, staring into each other’s eyes, lost in a moment.

You don’t notice when you press your lips to his, perfectly satisfied to ignore the size difference. You let your eyes flutter closed as you melt into his touch.

He’s stiff, unable to move until after you pull away with your hands still on your cheeks. You shrink back.

He shrinks down so that he had to hold you atop of his forearm as the other servo guided you back to his lips. He matched your passion, maybe even doubled it with a touch of desperation as he held you close. His nose pressed into your cheek, his optics dimming before going offline all together.

The second kiss lasted a bit longer, and in those extra seconds you could taste every ounce of all of the sweet words he had ever written for you, only to hide them away in the depths of his collection of personal datapads.

You could feel his hand tremble against your scalp as he let you lean back and away from him. His optics were frantic, but held no regret. They never held any regret when it came to you and him.

He glanced to the side, and took a moment to clear his throat. “Forget-“

“No,” you said with a firmness that Megatron decided was quite becoming of you. “Let’s talk about this over drinks, shall we? My treat.” You smile at him with eyes as soft as pink rose petals scattered across the ground.

You swear you can see as his walls as they came crumbling down reflected in his red optics. Red optics that were so easy on the eyes. Red optics that you had come to adore. 

“Let’s.”

[spilled-energon]

@quantumlogician said:

It wasn't an obvious detail, but it was a vetted detail Shockwave following, seeing the Nemesis major procedures half in quantity and efficacy. Normally, he'd ignore such pauses in protocol, if it weren't for the prolonged period at which they remained offline.

He followed his trail towards Soundwave's hab and knocked twice on the door, extending a helping of charge to make him aware of his guest.

Continued from Here.

If not for Shockwave making certain that Soundwave would be aware of just who was standing outside his door, he would not have bothered to open it. He didn't need to have another one on one with Starscream where he became a therapist for the Seeker. Not now, anyway. Not when his insides hurt.

Soundwave didn't bother getting up to greet Shockwave at the door. He simply extended a data cable, overrode his locks, and let the door slide open. If it had been anyone else- barring Megatron, of course-, Soundwave wouldn't have given them the time of day. He kept his legs pulled up to his chest, gangly arms cradling Laserbeak against his hunched over form. The little deployer was clearly relieved by Shockwave's presence, her little wings fluttering and chirps escaping her at the sight of the other mech.

[cozzzynook]

do you have anymore aus for bee?

(I may be a bit desperate/j)

I love to headcanon Bee as mute like so many of his adaptations.

Whether it be from war or he was born with a disabled vox I like either or.

Bee uses Cybertronian sign language or his em field to communicate. He’s able to make noises yes but nothing beyond a beep or buzz as far as definitive sounding words.

he used to wish he could talk as a sparkling and youngling but as he’s grown into a full mech he’s okay with himself and not being able to.

If the situation really calls for it he will use his radio as a warning to his comrades. But then he meets Raf, Jack & Miko & uses his radio for them.

Raf learns cybertronian sign for Bee and they communicate through that and Raf talking. Its something that makes Bee really happy seeing Raf use sign to communicate with him. It means a lot to him since Optimus is the only other mech to use sign when communicating with him.

He knows he can hear but its nice not being the only one using sign and his adopted sire and now human friend Raf using his main form of language truly has his door wings fluttering in happiness.

-

If Bee gains the attention of a certain mech on the decepticons side- could be Shockwave, could be Soundwave, could be both mechs honestly- they already know some Cybertronian sign and corner him when he’s alone immediately grabbing his attention when they begin speaking with sign.

Of course he thought it was a trap and got away using a ground bridge but after a couple more attempts Bee was worn down enough to demand they save trying to offline him on the battlefield and not when he’s enjoying his time alone for a quiet drive.

When they admit to wanting to converse with him and learn more about him outside the war he still thinks its a trap but the two slither into his spark after giving some private information about themselves.

Like how Shockwave is affected by shadowplay but he can still feel and Soundwave lets a glimpse of his purple eyes flash through his visor before setting the tint back in full swing. Followed by a smiley face and question mark beneath it.

Bumblebee was a little less on edge and more receptive to meeting them in secret during each Earth week.

Sometimes it’s Shockwave that comes first to meet him followed by Soundwave but more often than not it’s usually the two coming together. On rare occasions Bee can’t show up its because his joint stiffen due to the cold weather and his frame locks up in pain.

He usually has his daily joint soothers from Ratchet but at there are times its not enough and nothing can be done but lay and rest. The humans call it ‘arthritis,’ Bee doesn’t mind using that term it made him feel less isolated since he was the only one in his group born with what his people called a defective frame.

The first time it happened he sent a private comm a bit late saying he couldn’t make it and apologized promising to make it up.

The two bots were not happy with missing out on seeing him especially without a specific reason not confirming if his well-being was satisfactory or not. Bumblebee felt guilty not telling them but he didn’t want them knowing he wasn’t a regular functioning mech. Truthfully he wished his team didn’t know either. He didn’t like the looks they’d give him if he looked uncomfortable or showed any signs of pain.

Ratchet didn’t see him any different since he took his oath to treat any bot born completely functional or dysfunctional to spark with unbiased care. Bee spent a lot of time quietly resting in his berth or in the medical unit slab with a curtain drawn to give him and Ratchet privacy.

Bee wasn’t in the best condition to meet with them the next time either but he didn’t want to pull the same stunt twice so he met with them. It took all but a nano-klik for them to see something was wrong. He tried brushing it off but the two were more stubborn and persistent than him and so he signed that he was not only mute but dysfunctional.

He used the human term arthritis knowing they would have to search the human term in their systems but he wanted just a klik more of their time before they turned pede and left him behind like many others had done before coming to Earth.

What he got in turn was the two bots asking if he was in pain still. Shockwave didn’t wait for an answer as he turned and went through the ground bridge Soundwave opened and returned with a vial of what he knew to be pain blockers. Soundwave in the mean time gently forced him to sit as Shockwave knelt beside them and brought the vial to his intake.

“I’m fine, I have daily meds I take that soothes most of the pain. Any more and I’ll recharge for a few mega cycles.”

The two still seemed like they wanted him to take the vial so he switched topics, “you aren’t freaked out by me being dysfunctional?”

“There is no shame in being formed differently. It is simply a fact that cannot be changed and should be cared for with the means of medicine and a helping servo. That is all there is to it,” Shockwave supplied while Soundwave nodded pointing to himself and Shockwave.

Bumblebee knew what he meant.

Soundwave and Shockwave were different even among the decepticons, he had no reason to believe they would treat him any different. If they could accept him being mute they would surely accept he was born dealing with his joints and frame having pains without a wound in sight.

“Thank you,” he wasn’t big on being touched much like Shockwave but he couldn’t help it. He hugged the scientist briefly, with enough time to reject just in case, before hugging Soundwave releasing him a nano-klik later.

“Thank you.”

-

🇸🇩🇵🇸🇨🇩

[path777]

two the internet: a terribly great place which invites many questions about oneself. 😊

+

never a good idea. the internet is never a good idea for someone like yoon jeonghan.

he tries not to think about it too much, about how much of him isn’t really his. and he tries not to think like that, because it’s all him, really, it is, but it’s hard to convince himself of it when he feels like he’s watching himself watch himself, day in, day out. 

jeonghan no longer remembers what it’s like to not be known; he no longer remembers what it’s like to be known.

what is to be known? 

who knows him? his family, whom he doesn’t see nearly enough? his members, whom he sees almost every day, barely exchanging words some days, because touches and familiar glances do just as well? his fans, to whom he offers his all and then some, who clamour for more and more from him every day?

so then again, maybe the internet is a good place for someone like yoon jeonghan. he can’t stand to stay offline, not like joshua, nor is he like seokmin, who dedicates hours to weverse every week. 

he tries to understand. what is it that he’s supposed to be doing? is he doing it right? do people think so? what do they think?

of course, he knows the answer to these questions already: his job, yes, yes, they think he’s doing great, and they want him to eat more and rest more. 

but there must be more, there’s always more. 

or is there?

jeonghan turns over in his bed again, as the mattress under his back gets too warm to bear. his phone illuminates his face in the dark — it’s so bad for his eyes, yes, he’s aware — as he pauses on a passing tweet. 

@pt61ha8 09:26 PM

i hope jeonghannie is happy, i hope he can take the time to do what he wants ㅠㅠ

what he wants. 

jeonghan wants many things, and also nothing at the same time. he’s thought about this many times. there’s nothing he wants that he needs, and there’s nothing he needs that he wants — well, almost nothing, anyway. 

familiar glances, he thinks.

there are days when he can’t blink without envisioning his future, clear as crystal. wife, two kids.

it’s not that he thinks it’s impossible, he knows that it is, it’s that — it’ll have happened, one day, and he’ll have missed it. it must hurt, it already hurts - 

he drops his phone on his nose. the bridge of jeonghan’s nose buzzes sore as he lets it rest on his face, powering down from inactivity. intuition tells him it’s nearing 2 AM, and yes, maybe that’s where he’ll find it; he has before, in his dreams, and in the close moments after waking. jeonghan’s eyelids flutter closed.

it might be time to reach for what he wants.

[rerejunebug]

This is about my BTD OC for Strade?

TW: Online forum, talking to strangers online, kidnapping, age gap

I was talking on discord as usual and a guy DMed me so I checked out the message from a guy with the user B3G_CRY it was weird but it didn't bother me

B3G_CRY: I see you're new in the server liebling?

Coyote_Grrl: yeah I am are you like the owner or smth?

B3G_CRY: No of course not I'm just a fellow member in the server

I respond back feeling scared for some reason but I shake it off with my tail between my legs

Coyote_Grrl: well its nice to meet you B3G_CRY

B3G_CRY: just call me Strade, may I know yours?

Coyote_Grrl: its Ryrc

B3G_CRY: That's really unique I like it

Coyote_Grrl: that's new normally people say that its weird

B3G_CRY: well I'd say they are bastards

It was getting late and it was almost midnight so I was going to be offline

Coyote_Grrl: Its getting late for me I have to go to bed night

B3G_CRY: Goodnight

It has been a year since I started talking to "Strade" He was like my best friend that was 34 and I was 15 and everything was going well...

B3G_CRY: Didnt you say you lived in America?

Coyote_Grrl: Yeah I did

B3G_CRY: How would you like the idea of me coming to see you cause I highly doubt your parents wont let you travel here it being a different state lol

He always teased me about that I told him when I was younger I thought Canada was a state cause the movie Meet the Robinsons

Coyote_Grrl: I would love that Strade

My tail wagged happy to finally meet him that wasn't video call or calling on discord

B3G_CRY: Im glad you love the idea say are you home alone right now?

Coyote_Grrl: Yeah?

My front door knocking while I was in my room then he went offline

Coyote_Grrl: One second someones at my door

I checked the peekhole in the door checking I quickly opened it my tail wagging fast I hopped onto him hugging him

Ryrc: STRADE!

Strade: Theres mein kleiner Kojotenwelpe

I never really knew what he was saying when he spoke or typed German but I learned some from him so I know he was saying my little coyote pup it made my heart flutter

Strade: You wanna get going? Its a long way there?

Ryrc: Yeah lemme tell my parents

Strade started to lie

Strade: its fine I already told them I just said I was your German tutor from the library and we were going to my place but we are actually going to my place we better get going or your parents are going to worry..

He was driving and I fell asleep on the ride after a while of some stops and stuff we were finally there but most of the time I was asleep Strade unbuckled me and pulled me over his shoulder heading to his place when I woke up I found myself chained up and with a shock collar on my neck....

Ryrc: i-is that blood on the floor?! STRADE!

I started crying out for him tears falling from my eyes Strade then walking down the basement stairs

Strade: Oh you're awake now huh pup~

Ryrc: there's something crazy going on I'm chained up and this stupid shock collar is on me

Strade: Don't speak like that towards me didnt you say you would like someone?

He suddenly started shocking me turning up the levels to the point of me crying

Strade: that was just the beginning liebling theres much worse gonna happen next

He turns off the remote setting it down now grabbing a knife heading towards me my tail covering myself

Ryrc: Please don't hurt me Strade this isn't you

Strade: No this is actually me... You actually thought I was a nice guy?

That's when I learned to never talk to strangers online but I'm now used to all the pain and I'm not alone I met one of his victims he also kept Ren is a really nice guy he's not scary or anything we comfort eachother despite both always being tortured me and that foxkin will stick by eachother

Strade, Ryrc, Ren.....= Stockholm Syndrome

(putting this back up cause snuffk1t blocked me! I will rewrite it thooo)

[sruthypm]

Transform Your App Development Skills with Flutter Coaching Classes Near You at Techmindz

In today's mobile-first world, app development has become one of the most in-demand skills across industries. If you're searching for Flutter coaching classes near me, look no further than Techmindz—a trusted training institute based in Kochi offering industry-relevant, hands-on Flutter training.

🌐 Why Learn Flutter?

Flutter, developed by Google, is a powerful open-source framework that lets developers build natively compiled applications for mobile, web, and desktop from a single codebase. It is fast, flexible, and ideal for startups and enterprises alike. Mastering Flutter opens the door to a wide range of job opportunities, including roles like:

Flutter Developer

Mobile App Developer

Cross-Platform App Engineer

UI/UX Developer

🎯 What Makes Techmindz the Ideal Choice?

At Techmindz, learning goes beyond theory. Here's what makes our Flutter coaching program stand out:

✅ Expert-Led Training: Learn directly from professionals with real-world app development experience.

✅ Live Projects: Work on real apps and understand the complete development cycle—from design to deployment.

✅ Placement Assistance: Our dedicated team supports students in building resumes, preparing for interviews, and securing job placements.

✅ Flexible Learning Options: Choose from weekday or weekend batches, online or offline modes.

✅ Located in Kochi’s IT Hub: Techmindz is located inside Infopark Kochi, giving learners exposure to a vibrant tech ecosystem.

🧑‍💻 Who Can Join?

Whether you're a beginner, a working professional, or a student, our Flutter coaching classes are tailored for all levels. No prior coding experience is required—just the passion to learn and build.

🚀 What You'll Learn

Introduction to Dart (Flutter's programming language)

Flutter widgets and layout design

State management

API integration

Firebase and backend connectivity

Deploying your app on Android and iOS

📞 Ready to Start?

Don’t just search for “Flutter coaching classes near me”—take the next step with Techmindz and build apps that make a difference.

[srishticampusposts]

Build your first Android Application

Build your first Android Application using the latest technologies like React Native, Kotlin & Flutter. Learn Android Application Development from Srishti Campus and become an Android Developer! If making an application has been your passion, Srishti Campus is the best software training centre in Trivandrum to learn more about it. Smartphones and devices are prerequisites of today and android applications come conjoined with today’s preferences. The students at Srishti Campus doubtlessly will be getting an incredible Android online and offline training experience. Being a developer, understanding Android is substantial for the career. Being one of the most sought after applications, Srishti Campus will be providing you with the best hands-on session for that thumping career start. The sessions will give you details on frameworks and help you become a successful developer.

Perks of learning Android Training from Srishti Campus

Students can have in-hand experience of the latest technologies of the Software and IT universe. Some of the exciting courses we provide are:

PHP Training

Android Training

Angular Training

Python Training

Kotlin Training

C/C++ Training

MEAN Stack Training

Java Training

iOS Training

[tipsandtricksinfo]

Best Coding Courses for Freelancers to Boost Tech Income

With the current digital first world, freelancing in the tech industry presents a lucrative and flexible career path. As the need for digital solutions increases, companies are always on the lookout for great freelancers who are capable of coding well and coming up with creative projects. To make a mark in this competitive market, and to have a high-tech income, it is important to enroll in the most top coding classes.

A good coding course can not only help you if you are just beginning; it will also help you upskill and manage to get high-paying freelance gigs. Here, in this article, we are looking at the best freelancer coding courses and discussing how coding classes in Chandigarh puts you in a regional perch.

Why Freelancers Should Invest in Coding Courses

Freelancers thrive on versatility and up-to-date skills. As a freelancer, your income is directly linked to your ability to deliver quality work efficiently. By taking a professional coding course, you can:

Learn in-demand programming languages such as Python, JavaScript, and React.

Understand full-stack development and build complete web or mobile applications.

Gain insights into APIs, databases, and backend frameworks.

Deliver more advanced projects, thus commanding higher rates.

Best Coding Courses to Consider

The following there are some of the best coding courses that can take your freelancing career a notch higher:

1. Full-Stack Web Development

This course will give you both front end and back end development. It is perfect for freelancers that would like to provide comprehensive website solutions. You will be taught HTML, CSS, JavaScript, Node.js, Express, MongoDB, etc.

2. Mobile App Development

As the mobile usage continues to increase exponentially, this coding course prepares freelancers for developing Android and iOS applications with Flutter, React-Native, or Kotlin.

3. Python Data Science and AI

Python is still one of the most used programming languages. Python in data science course can help freelancers enter the AI, machine learning, and analytics which are high paying freelance niches.

4. WordPress Development

WordPress development is an easy way into freelancing if you are focusing on small businesses. This course aims at theme customization, plugin development, and e-commerce integration.

5. Front-End Web Development

Specializing in the front-end makes freelancers create responsive and visually pleasing websites. HTML, CSS, JavaScript, as well as frameworks such as Bootstrap and React.js, are generally covered in this course.

How a Course in Chandigarh Can Help

Freelancers based in North India have a unique advantage when they pursue a course in Chandigarh. The city has evolved into a tech and education hub, offering both online and offline learning options. From short-term bootcamps to diploma programs, there’s a broad range of choices available.

There are coding classes in Chandigarh tailored specifically for freelancers. These classes often emphasize project-based learning, mentor support, and career guidance to help learners transition directly into freelance markets like Upwork, Fiverr, and Toptal.

What to Look for in a Coding Course

Before enrolling in any course, keep these factors in mind:

Reputation and Reviews: Opt for institutions with strong student testimonials.

Curriculum Relevance: Ensure it includes the latest tools and technologies.

Hands-on Projects: Practical experience is crucial for freelancers.

Certification: Helps in building trust with freelance clients.

Career Support: Choose a provider that helps with freelancing platforms and client acquisition.

Boosting Income with the Right Skills

The freelancers can easily double or triple their income with adequate training. The tech skills are always in demand, and a client will prefer a freelancer who can provide modern and scalable code that is efficient. A professional coding program does not only develop technical competency but also improves your credibility and confidence.

The freelancers can get an upper hand in the global market by taking appropriate coding courses, in particular, in Chandigarh. There are coding classes in Chandigarh catering towards an international standard to ensure that local learners get to enjoy premium opportunities.

Final Thoughts

Regardless of whether you are a novice freelancer or an expert in your field, a proper coding course investment can lead the way through a number of high-paying projects, as well as opportunities for long-term career success. Build on the high-quality education that is close – there is a course in Chandigarh that could be your platform onto the top of freelance.

Begin learning today and gain control over your freelance tech income with the abilities that the clients all over the world wait for.

[glacialtunnelshark]

IT courses

Code 99 Academy: Building Future-Ready Tech Professionals

In today’s fast-paced digital world, the demand for skilled professionals in technology is skyrocketing. Whether it’s web development, data science, app development, or UI/UX design, the tech industry is constantly evolving. That’s where Code 99 Academy steps in – a premier tech training institute dedicated to bridging the gap between academic knowledge and real-world skills.

Who We Are

Code 99 Academy is more than just a training center. It's a launchpad for aspiring developers, designers, and digital thinkers. With a mission to make high-quality tech education accessible, we empower students, graduates, and working professionals with industry-relevant skills that truly matter.

Our courses are curated by seasoned industry experts and delivered through hands-on, project-based learning. We believe that you learn best by doing — and that's exactly how we teach.

Why Choose Code 99 Academy?

There are countless online and offline platforms out there, so why choose us? Here’s what makes Code 99 Academy stand out:

1. Industry-Focused Curriculum

We don’t just teach you how to code — we teach you how to think like a developer. Our curriculum is regularly updated to reflect current industry trends and practices. Every course is built with input from tech professionals and hiring managers, ensuring you're learning what's actually in demand.

2. Hands-on Learning

Theory is essential, but execution is everything. At Code 99 Academy, every module includes real-time projects, coding challenges, and capstone assignments. By the end of your course, you’ll have a solid portfolio that proves your skills to any employer.

3. Expert Mentors

Our trainers are not just teachers; they are experienced developers, data scientists, and designers who bring real-world knowledge to the classroom. With personalized guidance and one-on-one mentoring, you get the kind of support that transforms learning into mastery.

4. Placement Support

We’re deeply committed to your success. Our dedicated placement team helps you prepare for interviews, polish your resume, and connect with top companies. From mock interviews to soft-skills training, we make sure you’re job-ready from day one.

5. Flexible Learning Modes

Whether you're a college student, a working professional, or a career switcher, we have learning paths that suit your lifestyle. Choose from online, offline, or hybrid learning options — all with the same level of engagement and quality.

Our Popular Courses

At Code 99 Academy, we offer a range of in-demand tech courses. Here are some of our most sought-after programs:

🔹 Full Stack Web Development

Master front-end and back-end technologies including HTML, CSS, JavaScript, React, Node.js, and MongoDB. Build real-world applications from scratch and become a job-ready full-stack developer.

🔹 UI/UX Design

Learn the art and science of user interface and user experience design. From wireframes to high-fidelity prototypes, this course prepares you to design intuitive, beautiful, and functional digital products.

🔹 Python for Data Science

Get hands-on with Python programming, data analysis, and visualization tools like Pandas, NumPy, and Matplotlib. Perfect for anyone looking to break into data science and analytics.

🔹 Mobile App Development

Build native and cross-platform mobile apps using Flutter or React Native. Learn the complete app development lifecycle from design to deployment.

Who Can Join?

Our programs are designed to accommodate all types of learners:

Students looking to upskill alongside their degree

Graduates aiming to kick-start their careers in tech

Working professionals wanting to switch careers or upgrade their skills

Entrepreneurs who want to learn tech to build their own products

No prior experience in coding? No worries. Many of our students start from scratch and go on to land high-paying jobs in top companies.

Success Stories That Inspire

Over the years, hundreds of our students have transformed their lives through Code 99 Academy. Whether it’s a B.Com graduate becoming a UI designer or a mechanical engineer turning into a full-stack developer, we’ve been the silent force behind many inspiring journeys.

Here’s what one of our alumni, Akash S., had to say:

“I joined Code 99 with no coding background. Today, I’m working as a junior developer in a startup and building real products every day. The trainers made everything so simple and practical.”

Our Vision for the Future

Technology is evolving, and so are we. Code 99 Academy is constantly expanding its offerings, exploring new domains like Artificial Intelligence, Cloud Computing, and Blockchain. We envision a future where anyone, regardless of background, can step into the world of tech with confidence and capability.

Our goal is not just to train you for a job — but to empower you for a career that grows.

Ready to Start Your Tech Journey?

If you’re ready to take the first step toward a fulfilling tech career, Code 99 Academy is here for you. Whether you’re just curious or fully committed, we invite you to explore our programs, attend a free trial session, or speak with our counselors.